La vie is just a bowl of cerises

What is it about cherries? That moist succulent flesh, that deep red lustre that is too beautiful to eat and too delicious to resist.
A neighbour came a while ago with a bucket of the sweetest ever fruit. Even when we have had no real rain for eight weeks, somehow Nature digs deep and offers us her joyful gallic shrug.
Away from Nature, Sat Naff and I found the bike shop. And did they have a spoke? Non! More gallic shrugs all round. It’s an old English bike with a basket I bought in London during my eco warrior intellectual look-alike phase. We’re rusting out together.
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